


Play Me Like A Fiddle

by StrawberryLane



Series: Newt, The Very Dark Lord [2]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Dark Lord, Gen, Manipulation, Obscurial Credence Barebone, POV Outsider, Power Dynamics, Pureblood Society, Purebloods, Racism, Racism among wizards, Undercover, Undercover Missions, Who's manipulating who?, dark wizards
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 10:52:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9436943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrawberryLane/pseuds/StrawberryLane
Summary: Within two days of being brought to Arizona by Gravethorne, Scamander has the whole of Wizards Society for Pure Purebloods wrapped around his finger, ready to do whatever he asks. To be honest, the way he so easily took all the power, just by talking, irks Amandla something horribly.Here she is, one of the longest standing members of Wizards Society for Pure Purebloods, and what happens? Some British man, a dark lord she's never even heard of, waltzes in and becomes the leader, just like that.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not really sure where I actually wanted to go with this, but here we are.
> 
> Fun fact, I once had a teacher who claimed he was kind when grading papers. Turns out he had a reputation for being an absolute asshole and tearing the students down to nothing. Fun, right?

Kindness is such a strange thing, really. Amandla used to think that kindness meant you were, well, a kind person. That it meant you meant no harm, even if you did accidentally do dumb things sometimes.

Newt Scamander, a self proclaimed kind person, is really not kind at all. He uses his kindness as a weapon. He is polite, almost to a fault. He's interested in you, but only for as long as he can use it, only until he's gotten what he wants from you. After that, you're left in the dust.

And really, isn't that the most unsettling thing about it?

Within two days of being brought to Arizona by Gravethorne, Scamander has the whole of _Wizards_ _S_ _ociety for_ _P_ _ure_ _P_ _urebloods_ wrapped around his finger, ready to do whatever he asks. To be honest, the way he so easily took all the power, just by talking, irks Amandla something horribly.

Here she is, one of the longest standing members of _Wizards_ _S_ _ociety for_ _P_ _ure_ _P_ _urebloods,_ and what happens? Some British man, a dark lord she's never even heard of, waltzes in and becomes the leader, just like that.

Not that she can do anything about it, because the others all love him, they don't see any fault in him.

It is, to be honest, driving Amandla up the wall. She knows, logically, that she needs to remain on Scamander's good side. Not doing that is only going to end badly for her and her husband. But still, she can't stop herself from trying to talk to his followers, to try to figure out who this man really is.

Gravethorne won't speak to her, she already knows the arrogant bastard dislikes her. He's made that abundantly clear over the last couple of weeks, ever since he joined the society.

Scamander's right hand woman is out of the picture too, if only because she's his right hand woman and therefore can't be trusted to keep secrets from him. And the last thing Amandla wants Scamander to know is that she's looking to figure him out.

Porpentina's sister, the ditzy Queenie is out too, for all that she seems like she's an excellent source of information because of her legilimency, the very thing that also makes her the wrong person to press for information. You can't press someone for information by talking about ordinary things when they know exactly what you're thinking.

That leaves the obscurial, Amandla realizes, with a shudder of trepidation. She's never met an obscurial before, barley even studied them in school. They are not common, thankfully, and rarely manage to survive past the age of ten.

Scamander's obscurial is a full grown man.

It's not like that is scary, or anything. Amandla can talk to a young man, no problem. Only, there is a problem. And that problem is that the obscurial, who's name Amandla hasn't heard being used yet, rarely leaves Scamander's side. Scamander keeps an eye on the young man at all times, almost like a jealous lover, who won't let anyone near.

Her only hope is that Scamander gets called away on some kind of business, him and him alone, before he decides he has had enough of Arizona and takes his entourage with him back to Britain.

He seems like a restless man, underneath the calm facade.

Thankfully, there's still one person around that while he has been seduced by Scamander's particular brand of kindness, Amandla can still play like a fiddle: Her husband.

Thomas has always loved her, since long before they officially met, and she knows he would do anything she asked, if she asks in the right way.

She sets her trap up carefully, like she does with everything. Never say Amandla Purridge isn't an organized type of woman. In this case, setting the trap carefully means to ambush Thomas with news about another, new group in Minnesota that share their beliefs.

Thomas is a strong believer in people who share his ideals, who believes in the same things he believes in. He also knows that numbers make you stronger. So when Amandla tells her darling husband about this new group, and hints that he should go see them, and of course Scamander will need to come too, you can't go without your leader, that's poor manners, Thomas readily agrees.

Thomas might not be the leader of _Wizards_ _S_ _ociety for_ _P_ _ure_ _P_ _urebloods,_ but he still has some power. Soon enough, he has persuaded a few of his closest friends to back him up when he proposes his idea for a trip to Scamander.

Scamander, after consulting Porpentina, seems to realize that the best thing to do, if he doesn't want to have a mutiny on his hands, is to travel to Minnesota to meet this new group. Thomas is ecstatic, and brings forward an idea of his own; Scamander would be even more powerful if they can persuade this other group to join them in their quest for a pureblood society.

Scamander can, of course, not resist the chance to get more followers, despite his earlier claims that he doesn't need them, simply because he is kindness itself.

The group that will travel to Minnesota, specifically chosen by Scamander himself, consists of Scamander, Thomas, Porpentina, and Gravethorne. At the last minute, he decides to leave the ditzy sister, Queenie and the obscurial behind.

The two of them keep their heads down even more when Scamander's not around, to Amandla's surprise. She would've thought they would loosen up when not in their master's presence.

Fortunately for Amandla, she catches the obscurial descending the stairs early next morning. She follows him into the kitchen, pretending not to notice the way he visibly tenses when he notices he's being followed. He doesn't call her on it, though, so she makes herself comfortable at the table, waiting for him to rummage through the cupboards for something to eat.

He holds himself like he wants to make himself small, she notes. Like he would disappear if he only could.

"There's some bread in that cupboard over there," she says, pointing. People tend to loose their armor faster if you're being helpful, even if it's just small things.

"Thank you," it's a whisper, so quiet she barley hears it.

"Of course. You're an honored guest now, and we can't let the honored guests go hungry, that would be bad manners," Amandla flutters her eyelashes. She is fairly certain it won't work, because this young man is young enough to be her son, much like Scamander, but it's worth a try.

The obscurial doesn't even appear to notice she's doing anything.

She invites him, voice sugar sweet, to sit at the table and won't he keep her company whilst she drinks her tea? He stutters yet another thank you, sitting down in front of her and mechanically eating his breakfast.

"Your master's quite something, isn't he?"

The obscurial nods, slowly chewing on his piece of toast. He still seems timid, but his eyes are following her every move now.

"How come you stay with him? Is he really as kind as he seems?" Amandla doesn't think Scamander seems kind at all, but if this young man sees his master as his savior, she can pretend for half an hour.

"Yes."

"There's something that's been bothering me, if you are all right with me bringing it up."

The obscurial nods.

"The other day, when you first arrived, your master gave you a reward for excellent behavior. To me, it simply looked like you were behaving as would be expected in a formal setting like this one. So, I guess my question, my concern more like, is if your master has a habit of rewarding your good behavior, does he also have a habit of punish your bad behavior?" Time to play up the concerned grandma, Amandla thinks and pats the obscurial's hand.

"He's never violent...If that's what concerns you," the young man answers, voice quivering. He's staring over Amandla's shoulder. "Not unless..." he trails off, swallowing audibly.

"Unless what, my dear boy?" Amandla asks, concern lacing her voice.

"Unless I-" the obscurial makes a choked noise low in his throat, covering his face with his hands and starts sobbing. Amandla awkwardly moves to put a hand on his shoulder, to uncomfortably being to console him, because console sad people is what grandmothers do, when there's a loud pop! echoing through the room and Scamander appears from nowhere. And he looks furious.

The obscurial jumps at the noise, taking a quick peek through his fingers to see who exactly the new arrival is, and promptly whimpers.

Amandla turns to face Scamander, but he's not looking at her. Instead, he is, just like the obscurial was doing not even five minutes ago, looking at the doorway.

"Thank you, Queenie," he says, and Amandla turns around to see the ditzy woman standing just outside the kitchen.

"Of course," Queenie says and winks at Amandla.

"Like I've said before," Scamander tells Amandla, "having a legilimens on your side is bloody useful sometimes. And this one can never stay out of other peoples heads," he shakes his head like it is a bad thing.

"My lord," Amandla begins, but Scamander interrupts her.

"I went on this trip because your husband persuaded me it was a good idea. Do you know what I found when I arrived in Minnesota? A big load of nothing, is what I found."

"I'm-"

"And just a couple of hours later, when your husband is still busy reassuring me your source is someone I can trust, Queenie here contacts me to say you've been talking to my obscurial. And I did give him very clear orders not to speak to anyone."

"My lord, it wasn't his fau-" Amandla begs, because if she loses the obscurial's trust now, she won't have anything later.

"I don't care if it wasn't his fault," Scamander snarls. "He broke the rules."

The obscurial is sobbing now, his hands completely covering his face from Amandla's view.

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave, Mrs Purridge," Scamander says, suddenly looking as disinterested in the proceedings as it is possible to look. His wand is drawn, though.

"Yes, my lord," Amandla bows her head, playing up the subservient angle. As she slips out of the room, Queenie walks into it, followed by Porpentina and Gravethorne.

Looking back inside the room one last time before the door closes behind her, Amandla catches a glimpse of the obscurial's face. His dry face to be exact. There's not one trace of tears running down his cheeks at all.

And he's smiling.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and I hope you liked it!


End file.
